


Twiceover

by makos_lightningrod



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mainly Melissa/Sheriff, Minor Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1553585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makos_lightningrod/pseuds/makos_lightningrod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you realize you’ve fallen in love once, it’s a lot easier to let yourself do it twice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twiceover

**Author's Note:**

> Formerly written on lydiasgotstiles.tumblr.com

"Don’t you think it’s about high time you ask her out?" He asks, fixing his tie and looking at himself in the mirror to make sure that he looks good. He knows that his girlfriend won’t make do with someone who doesn’t look 99% as good as her because she has to be the 100%. And she is in his eyes.

"Who?" He’s sipping a cup of coffee and his eyes are wide awake. It’s his first real day off from the job and he doesn’t know what to do with himself besides drink coffee and sit on the sofa watching television shows that only teenagers would give a damn about. It’s better than nursing a bottle of whiskey.

"You know who I’m talking about." He snatches the phone from the table and sits down beside him, scrolling through his phonebook. 

"Give that back." The other tries to grab it, but his reflexes are too slow. They both blame it on his old age. 

"I’m talking about her." He flips the phone over and shows him the contact that he’s landed on - Melissa. He doesn’t say anything and tries to hastily takes the phone away from him, but the attempt fails once more and he’s left feeling like an old man. 

"Why don’t you call her up and ask to have dinner? You know…like your own little prom?" Stiles grins at him and smooths his hand through his hair, making it disheveled. "I bet that’d be so adorable.”

"Why don’t you stop being a smartass and clean yourself up? Lydia’s not going to be impressed with how you look right now," he says stubbornly, trying to change the subject and stop thinking about the woman that was only a mile or so away from him. 

"I look ah-mazing," his son emphasizes, straightening his lapel and huffing. "And for that, I’m going to do this." He turns the phone back to him and hits the call button. And then shows his father the heinous crime that he’s committed. "It’s riiiiinging."

"Stiles-Fuc-" He goes to grab the phone just as he hears her voice. 

"Excuse me?" He hears the injustice in her tone and looks at the phone for a good minute. And then he looks at his son who makes the motion actually talking on the phone but it looks more like he’s suffering from a tick.

"Hey!" Stiles slaps his face at his father’s overenthusiastic attitude. He clears his throat and sits up on the sofa. "Hi, Melissa. I must have caught you at a bad time…I bet you’re working a shift at the hospital." 

There’s that moment of silence where he wonders just how stupid he sounds, but then she talks. “No. I actually got the night off to see the kids off for prom. So.” There’s nothing after that and he knows that he sound say something more. And of course, Stiles is across from him, making eating noises and chomping air like a beaver. 

"Well, I was wondering. You know…since they’re going off to prom…that we should…catch dinner." He’s rusty and he hasn’t been out to dinner with another woman since Claudia passed, but it seems that now is a good time as any to get it over with. 

"You’re asking me to dinner?" Melissa asks, her voice betraying that she’s very surprised by his proposal. 

He rubs his neck. “Yeah. Dinner. Nothing too big. I figure we could wait up together so that Scott and Stiles aren’t late for their curfew.” He looks at his son who gapes at him for setting a curfew on prom night.

"I’d love to," she says softly and he breathes a sigh of relief. "Why don’t you come over with Stiles and then we can leave together?" He gives her an affirmation and hastily hangs up before he can say something stupider. 

Stiles stares at him and gives him a thumbs up. “I’m not coming home until Tuesday.” 

His father obviously calls bullshit on that one.

 

An hour later, the two Stilinski men are pulling into the McCall driveway and he stares up at the intimidating house as if he hasn’t been over there a hundred times. 

"Come on, dad. This is Melissa," Stiles says, patting his father’s chest and rolling his eyes. "Just act like yourself and I’m sure she’ll like you even more than she does."

"How do you know she likes me?" He asks, feeling anxious all of a sudden. He glances down at his clothes and wonders if he’s completely underdressed in his slacks and a simple polo. He hopes that she doesn’t think they’re going to some fancy restaurant. There aren’t that many fancy places in Beacon Hills, anyways. 

"Trust me. She likes you," Stiles smiles before he straightens out his body, reaching into his pocket. "Now, in case things get…out of hand." He pulls out a small square object and slaps it in his father’s hand. 

He’s appalled to find a condom in his hand and he throws it down like it’s scalded his hand. And before he can punch his son, he jumps out of the car and runs up to the door, ringing the doorbell several manic times. 

Ten minutes later, Melissa is fixing her son’s hair and grinning when he slaps her away, whining out the oh-so-familiar Mooooooom. She ignores it and winks at his date, noticing that she’s enjoying this as much as he is. “Now get close together so I can get a few pictures in,” she smiles, stepping back and picking up her camera. 

He looks over at her and smiles to himself. He wishes that Claudia was here to see this - their son going to the prom with the girl that he’s been in love with for the longest time. And then it hits him. He is just like his son. He watches Melissa chastise both their sons as they haven’t even put their corsages on their dates. “Now, let me take a picture with you,” she demands, coming over to her son. 

Scott nearly falls over as she pushes everyone away. “Look like you’re happy to be standing next to your mom,” she extends her demand before he smiles and a flash comes off. “And one with my boys.” He’s surprised when he pulls Stiles over and looks at him expectantly. “Well, are you coming to join us or not?” 

The boys look over at him and they try to hide their smiles as he comes over and stands beside Stiles. After a few hundred photographs, the two of them are standing at the doorway, telling them to have fun, but too much fun. 

It’s only when the girls are getting into the car that Stiles and Scott turn and look at them with looks of typical parental protection. “Now, you know the rules. Dinner and straight back home.” 

Scott grins. “No touching below the neck.” 

"Scott!" Melissa exclaims, looking ready to hit him before color flushes in her cheeks and she’s glancing over at her dinner date for the night. "Don’t mind him." 

"Yeah, mind your manners, dad." He looks him in the eye. "Remember what we talked about in the car. You have fun and stay safe. Don’t bring home any babies." He moves his hand between the two of them. "BE HOME BY 11!" He shouts as they chase them off into the car. 

Melissa stands there and laughs, looking over at him. “Can you believe them?” She asks, trying to make herself sound casual, but it comes out otherwise. 

"There’s a reason they met in the sandbox," he says dryly, fixing his collar. And then he becomes serious. "So. About dinner?" He glances over her attire and finally notices that she’s dressed just as casually as he is and he can’t help but smile. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking Chinese," she laughs as she gets her coat and he’s sure to come over and help her into it.

"Chinese sounds good." 

 

He’s surprised when the two of them are sitting in the back of his car, several white Chinese take-out boxes between them. They debated on whether or not to actually sit in the restaurant and have dinner, but neither feels like it. So they’re sitting in his driveway in back of car with the hatchback up. And she’s in the middle of tearing through a packet of soy sauce and pouring it atop of her mooshu pork. 

He shouldn’t be surprised that they’re in this position. He’s comfortable and he watches as she takes a few pieces of over sauced chicken from his own carton, grinning to herself. “I’m pretty sure I don’t remember saying I was going to share.”

"Oh, please. You were going to share when you opened your wallet," she retorted, licking the sauce from her mouth and setting down her carton. 

"I would have done that if we went through with going Dutch. But I paid. So theoretically, all of this is mine." And he’s right. It’s all his. 

"Hey. I offered to pay for it, but you were trying to be all manly and push away my money like I didn’t need it for anything," Melissa huffs, biting the ends of her chopsticks. 

"What kind of date would I be if I let you pay?" He asks without thinking and he’s too busy picking out the pieces of crunchy shrimp because those are the best things about this. 

She turns to look at him and smiles. “So it is a date,” she says and notices that this is the first real date she’s had with another man beyond the catastrophe that was Peter Hale. But that was different.

And this man that sits with her is different. 

"Well-" He begins and looks like he doesn’t know what to say. He looks adorably and awkward and she imagines that this must be just as hard for him as it should be for her. "It doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be."

"I never said I didn’t want it to be a date. I was just saying that you definitely want this to be a date," she teases and regresses almost immediately when she sees him fidget. "Hey." She puts her hand on his arm and he looks at her. "I want it to be a date." 

He looks down at her hand on his arm and manages a smile. And then he takes a leap of faith.

“Maybe I can get you to agree to a second one?


End file.
